South Park High
by Glee Klaine Fanboy
Summary: Not quite like my other high school SP fic. Will eventually be Style. Just read it.
1. Chapter 1

South Park High

Author's Note: I've decided to revisit this theme. This will be a little different than my previous fic of this kind. I'm not going to make couples the main focus, even though there will be pairings in it. It will focus more on life issues and family situations.

This chapter is mostly introductory, but it sets the stage for the story, so its still important. The main characters of the fic are Stan and Kyle for now. I may switch to other character perspectives later.

Chapter One

Five years have passed since the Fourth Grade, and the four friends known as Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and Kenny continue to live life in the rural mountain town of South Park. Their numerous adventures have been many, sometimes perilous, but they are about to face their greatest challenge yet- the challenge of being teenagers.

ooOoo

Stan

Things have changed. Mom and dad finally divorced for good. Shelly is with dad in Arizona, mostly because I didn't want to move. He never forgave me for staying here with mom.

At first I thought life would only get better. I'd known for awhile that my parents weren't good for each other, but if only I could have known what their divorce would lead to.

Mom married again, a guy named Raymond. I was in sixth grade when they met. He seemed nice, but after the wedding he totally changed. My mom continued to support us all on her salary. He never works.

Raymond seems nice and stable to most people, but he can be very manipulative and cruel. He emotionally manipulates my mom into doing everything for him, and has a way of justifying everything he does.

When he started hitting me his excuse was that my Asperger's made me rebelous and hard to handle. Mom had tried to stop him at first, but he made it about her, saying that she was choosing me over him.

He has continued to tighten his hold on her. The strong and mostly independent woman she once was is gone. I wish we knew how to get in touch with dad.

ooOoo

Kyle

As I get older I'm getting more independent and questioning. I once said I didn't believe in Jehovah. Now I'm almost sure I don't.

I'm a compassionate guy, and an atheist kid at school was the first to make me doubt my faith again. It had started as a kind act. I'd helped him up after a kid had thrown him into a locker.

He asked me how I can be so nice all the time. I told him that's what Jehovah would want us to do because he's compassionate. He asked me why Jehovah doesn't feed all the starving children in the world. It was Cartmanland all over again.

I get it now. People like me make a difference in the world. Its up to us to feed starving children and make a difference in the world. Jehovah either can't, or won't do it.

Its like Epicurius said- _is he able to prevent suffering, but not willing?_

My parents don't know that I'm atheist yet. I'm not sure how they would take it, especially my mother.

ooOoo

It is in these circumstances that high school begins for our young friends, so once more let us step into their world as we once enjoyed their third and fourth grade antics. This is a different world. This is South Park High...


	2. Chapter 2

Stan looked into the bathroom mirror, eyes taking in the yellow and purple on his arms. He flinched at the pain. Raymond had hit him again. He'd whipped his arms with a belt strap, and called him a fuckup. He couldn't share this with anyone. All the kids at school thought he was cool. He decided to wear a long sleeve shirt. The face that glanced back at him in the mirror was so different than the boy he'd once seen. Stan was older, his hair longer, framing his face with raven curls. People told him he was attractive, but he was just an autistic fuckup.

ooOoo

He stepped on the bus, finding Kyle immediately. His best friend had gotten older too. He now kept his curly red hair trimmed. It strangely complimented his fair features and lithe frame.

"Hey Stan," he greeted.

"Hey Kyle," he returned in that almost dead voice he tended to use these days.

"You okay?" Kyle asked concernedly.

"Yeah, just nervous. I couldn't sleep thinking about first day of school today."

"We'll be fine," Kyle smiled at him. "I'm sure we will."

ooOoo

Cartman was still his usual pushy self. The two of them had stopped hanging with the big boy years ago, but he still frequently made cracks at them.

"Oh hi guys," he called out when they passed him.

Cartman was bigger, but brawnier. He'd started lifting weights and did boxing. Stan and Kyle ignored him, which tended to piss him off.

"Hey!" he called out angrily.

He ran after them. He didn't exactly have many friends.

"In case you couldn't tell," Kyle began. "This is called ignoring you."

Cartman huffed and decided not to push it after all, watching them walk on.

"You think we should be nicer to Cartman?" Stan asked.

"Well I certainly don't miss his antics," Kyle told him. "I think he slurred me enough growing up. Why does he want to hang with us anyway?"

"He doesn't exactly have a dad," Stan pointed out. "Neither do I for that matter... anymore."

Kyle noticed his friend's expression fall again.

"Stan are you sure you're okay? How's things with Ray?"

"He still doesn't get me," Stan told him. "He gives me a hard time for having Asperger's."

Kyle still didn't know about the physical abuse aspect of it. Raymond never showed that side of himself around other people.

"He still calls me names too," Stan went on with downcast eyes. "Pansy. Queer. Sissy."

Kyle placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Don't listen to him. I don't know why your mom puts up with him."

Stan didn't know either...


	3. Chapter 3

Stan took the oppurtunity at lunch to slip into the boy's restroom without drawing too much attention to himself. His arm was hurting. He made sure no one else was in the bathroom and lifted up the sleeve of his shirt, looking at the bruises and whelps on his arm. They were a nasty yellowish color tinged with purple. He touched one gently and hissed in pain.

"Stan?" a voice cut into his thoughts.

His heart fell at the sight of Kyle behind him in the mirror. He turned to face his best friend, quickly pulling his sleeve back down, but it was too late. His best friend grabbed for his arm, and Stan sighed, knowing he knew now. Kyle raised the sleeve and his heart broke at the bruises on his best friend's arm.

"That bastard," he whispered angrily. "It was him wasn't it Stan? My god, it all makes sense now."

"Don't try to do anything to help me," Stan told him. "You can't..."

He looked away and a tear slid down his face.

"Stan," Kyle spoke softly, grabbing his unbruised arm gently. "How long?"

"Since sixth grade," Stan muttered quietly.

"My god," Kyle repeated. "It makes sense now. That's when you started to change..."

What could he do to help Stan?

"Hey," he said. "You want to stay at my house for awhile?"

Stan turned to face him looking interested.

"Could I?" he asked, hope on his face. "Dude you have no idea how nice it would be... to get away from him."

Kyle placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, and Stan felt his breath catch. What was this sudden discomfort? Kyle's face and eyes were so nice.

"Well, well... "

They turned to Cartman standing at the door.

"Its the two lovers," the fat kid chortled.

"Shut up," Kyle spat at him.

"Or what?" Cartman asked snidely. "What you gonna do Jew?"

Cartman was caught of guard by Stan slamming into him, throwing him against the wall. How dare he diss Kyle like that like they were still in Fourth Grade! He pulled back and punched Cartman across the face. Rage filled him as he imagined it was Ray he was punching. He punched the stocky boy again and again, his teeth clenched in anger.

"Stan!" Kyle shouted. "Stop! That's enough... "

Stan exhaled, his breathing winded and lowered his hand. He felt a rush of remorse. Why had he done that, gotten so angry? Cartman's nose and lip were busted and he covered his face, running from the bathroom in shame.

"He had no right to talk to you like that," Stan pointed out angrily.

Kyle eyed him in surprise. As much as he should admire Stan for protecting him, this was not the person he knew. Stan didn't get this angry and hurt people like this. He shook his head.

"Hey Kyle," Stan said, his gaze becoming gentler. "You okay bro?"

"I'll be alright Stan," the Jewish boy replied quietly, looking down. "I'm going back to lunch... "

Stan watched his best friend go with a confused look. Wasn't his best friend happy that he'd stood up to Cartman for him?


	4. Chapter 4

Maybe Kyle had been a little hard on Stan. He'd really been through something these last few years. Kyle had known, sensed that something was off about his best friend, but this exceeded even his wildest guesses. What could he do about it? He knew Stan wouldn't want him saying anything.

"Hey dad," Kyle spoke up.

Gerald looked up from his plate. They were gathered around the dinner table.

"Yes son?"

"If I have this friend... " Kyle began. "...and I know bad stuff is happening at their house. What should I do about it?"

His father eyed him carefully, seeming to consider. He could tell this was serious.

"Well Kyle, it depends how serious this is. What is it?"

Kyle inhaled. He knew he should say it. Stan shouldn't have to do this alone, but it'd be betraying his trust. He swallowed down his response.

"Kyle?" Gerald pressed him.

"Its nothing dad," he lied. "It was a hypothetical. Just one of those... you know, what ifs."

His dad looked like he didn't quite believe him, but he dropped it, returning to his dinner. Kyle was old enough to know to do the right thing or not on his own.

ooOoo

Stan picked up the phone, started to dial the number, and hung up with a sigh. Kyle obviously didn't want to be bothered with this. He'd walked out on him at school earlier. Didn't even he care? Stan went into his bedroom and flopped on his bed. His best friend had abandoned him, and life just seemed to get more depressing and miserable every day. He opened his bedside table and grabbed the knife, lifting it with a shaky hand. What was he going to do? He thought about Ray's hand across his face, Kyle leaving him, and he pressed the blade to his wrist, sliding it and feeling the burn as a tear escaped his eye. The sting soon detracted him from all other feeling. He brought it to his other wrist and gave a quick slice, gasping in pain. He collapsed back against the matress, the stinging filling his brain, eclipsing the depression he'd been feeling moments earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

Stan lay drifting in and out of consciousness for what seemed forever, as the sting of the cuts acted like a release in his brain. He heard the phone ringing in the back of his mind and slowly came to, pressing talk on the reciever.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Hey dude," Kyle's voice replied. "You okay?"

Stan felt a sudden hint of anger. Kyle had just walked out on him earlier when he'd confided in him with everything. He sighed.

"No actually," Stan grumbled. "I feel... alone."

Kyle's heart sank at his best friend's words, feeling guilt at leaving him alone at school earlier.

"Look," Kyle began. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to seem insensitive earlier."

Stan felt a rush of emotion at the guilt in his friend's tone, and he couldn't stay mad at him. He never had been able to stay angry with Kyle yet.

"Its fine," he sighed. "I probably freaked you out a little."

"Well yeah," the Jewish boy admitted. "I've never seen you so violent. Yet... you did it to protect me... "

Kyle still wasn't sure what to feel about that.

"I'll always protect you," Stan told him. "That's what friends do."

Yet even as he said it he was feeling something he couldn't name, something that was definitely not friendship. He couldn't identify it. It was stronger.

"Thanks," Kyle said. "You wanna go to a movie or somethin?"

"I guess so," Stan agreed.

It'd be better than sulking around the house all evening. It was still early yet.

"Okay I'll pick you up in twenty," Kyle told him, hanging up.

Stan eyed the cuts on his wrist with sudden disgust. Why had he done that? What would Kyle think if he knew? He couldn't show him...

oooOooo

The smell of fresh popcorn and butter hit Stan plesantly as they walked into the theater lobby. It'd been awhile since they'd done anything like this together. He suddenly realized how happy he was to be here with Kyle.

"Fags," someone sneered at them in passing.

They didn't see who it was. Whoever it had been had slipped into the throngs of people. They were kinda getting used to this behavior. People at school assumed they were hot for each other or something, but the truth was Stan just considered Kyle his best friend. Why was it then that Stan found his eyes raking over his best friend's ass, as he made for the concession stand. Kyle turned to face him.

"You coming dude?" he asked.

"Huh, oh yeah."

Stan caught up with him. Kyle liked them to always be right up each other's asses. Stan groaned inwardly, thinking his brain could have found a better way of wording that last bit. He stood by as Kyle purchased their popcorn and drinks, telling him not to worry about paying as they made for the theater. Kyle gave him a small smile and held open the door for him, the two of them slipping into the dark theater. They sat next to each other, still thinking nothing of it. This was supposed to be some horror flick, probably cheesy as hell. The credits rolled and Stan found his eye moving to Kyle's hand resting on the armrest between them. He licked his lips and felt a weird sensation pulse through him. What was weirder was a desire he'd never felt before- to reach out and take that hand. Kyle turned and looked at him, something in his face a little shy, tinged with a blush. Oh god... and Stan looked away a little. They were not doing this. He wasn't a fag! Kyle seemed to shrug it off and they turned their focus to the movie. They laughed and winced at all the right places. Sure enough, it was cheesy as hell. Why was it always dumb blonds and flirty teenagers? Stan found his eye returning to Kyle's hand. His friend eyed him again, but this time he moved his hand away, still eying him as though expecting something. Did he want Stan to put his hand on the armrest? Did Stan want to? What the hell. They were friends. There was no way this should be bothering him so much. It was just a hand! He stretched his arm out over the armrest casually and inhaled. A few seconds later he saw Kyle's arm move out of the corner of his eye, felt the Jewish boy's hand rest over his gently. Why couldn't he pull away? Instead his hand had a mind of its own, flipping over and letting Kyle's fingers intertwine with his. They were holding hands! What if someone saw them?

"Is this okay dude?" Kyle asked carefully, noticing Stan's nervousness.

"Y-yeah," Stan exhaled, because honestly he liked it.

Something about holding Kyle's hand felt so right. When the movie was over he was confused. He turned to his best friend in the lobby, but Kyle shook his head with a little smile.

"Not tonight dude," he said gently. "It was what it was. We're just friends."

Yet Kyle didn't feel like just friends as he watched Stan walk back toward his house after dropping him off.


End file.
